Bad Dreams are Made of This
by uga47
Summary: A Spuffy story in which Spike keeps having nightmares, or daymares as it were. Will Buffy be able to stop the dreams and save Spike? If the dreams don't stop, Spike will.


Bad Dreams are Made of This

**Bad Dreams are Made of This**

Spike looked wearily out at the peaceful graveyard before stalking back inside his crypt.

"Where have you been?" she asked.

"Needed a smoke," he replied.

"Oh, well why don't you come over here and we'll see if we can't start something else that's smoking," she said with a glance down that plainly said that she wanted him to separate her from the sheet she was presently holding up to her chest.

"I don't think your family would approve of that," he said.

"What they don't know won't hurt them," she replied with a smile.

"Why are you even here, much less," he indicated the sheet, "naked, in my bed."

"I want you Spike… and I think you want me too."

He eyed her somewhat suspiciously as a song started playing in his head… "You're dangerous… and you don't even know it." However, she should know what she wanted. After all, she was an adult. He decided to stick by his old motto, "if you can't have the on you love, love the one you have." He pulled his shirt off and threw it aside. He continued to undress before climbing into bed with her.

"You're sure you want to do this?" he asked. She nodded.

"No running off and telling people," he added.

She nodded again and he climbed on top of her. He bent down and allowed her to kiss him while he started gently thrusting. He started moving a little faster and she started making a little more noise. He almost had her at the point of no return when he heard his name.

"Spike… what the hell are you…"

"Buffy, she, she asked me, she was naked."

Buffy crossed the crypt in what seemed like two steps. She threw Spike to the wall, a little harder than she meant to. He jumped up and put his pants on. She shot him a look of disgust.

"Find your clothes Dawn," Buffy instructed her sister.

Dawn started searching frantically for her pants and shirt. She had never seen her sister so angry. Buffy had walked over to Spike and was continuing to yell at him.

"How could you Spike? She's my sister."

"And she was asking, actually, begging me to do it. You should be telling her to keep her clothes on."

"This has… you know why I came over here Spike… to tell you that I love you. And I find you screwing my sister. I can't believe I ever fell for you. You are…"

Spike awoke with a start. He sat up and wiped the sweat off his brow. He ran his fingers through his hair and shook his head to try to shake off the dream he'd been having. Dawn. Buffy. It had all seemed so real. He was glad that it wasn't. He got up and pulled his pants and shirt on. He walked out the door as he pulled on his coat. He lit a cigarette and looked around the graveyard. It was quiet just as it had been in the dream. No vampires stirring, aside form him, and thus his beloved slayer was no where to be seen either. He suddenly felt very sleepy. That dream had really thrown him for a loop. He dropped his cigarette on the ground and stomped it out. He walked back in side and was asleep before his head hit the pillow.

Spike walked into the Magic Box.

"Buffy isn't here. She went looking for some demon… but you're just in time," Xander said.

Spike looked around to see Xander, Anya, Dawn, Tara, and Giles gathered around Willow.

"We need seven people for this to work," Anya added knowledgeably.

"What the blood hell are you doing?" Spike asked.

He noticed that Willow was decidedly damp and that Tara had silent tears running down her cheeks. He inhaled through his nostrils and detected the stench of gasoline.

"We have to sacrifice Willow to save Angel," Dawn said with a slight air of annoyance as though Spike had just asked a very dumb question.

"No, you don't. I wouldn't sacrifice Xander to save Angel. Offense meant," he said with a look at Xander.

"Taken," Xander replied.

"Much less the person who can bring back the slayer," Spike continued. "The one who can deliver us all from impending doom, or… send us all there. The point is we are not sacrificing Willow."

"Can't you see this is hard for all of us?" Tara choked. "I know you love her too Spike, but we have to let her go. We have to save Angel."

"I don't… what? I don't love Willow. I… Why do we even need to save Angel? He's not dead you know… he's just in hell… I mean L.A."

"It's okay, Spike. I'm willing to die to save Angel," Willow said as she stood up, soaked in gas.

Spike walked over to her and put his hands on her shoulders.

"You are not doing this. I will not let you die for no reason. We need you to bring us back from the dead… and be our friend and stuff," Spike said softly.

The sun shone down suddenly through the busted skylight and Spike caught on fire. Willow lit quickly as well and by the time Spike had run into the hall she was completely engulfed in flames. Then, she dropped to the floor in a pile of ashes.

"Spike, how could you," he heard from the doorway.

He turned to see Buffy standing there.

"You… you killed my best friend," Buffy said.

"Oh bloody hell. They," he said, indicating the other, "were trying to sacrifice her and I was trying to stop them. They drenched her in gasoline and I was trying to talk some sense into her when I accidentally caught on fire. They were trying to save Angel."

"Angel is not dead Spike… so since you can't kill Angel you decide to kill Willow. You'll find any way you can to hurt me. How can I love you if you hurt me and kill my friends?"

"Ask them. They'll tell you," Spike spat.

"I don't need to. I saw what happened. I saw you kill her. I can't believe I ever thought I could love you that we could be…"

Spike sat straight up drenched in sweat again. These dreams were really getting to him.

He stood up and walked over to turn his television on. He flipped through the channels until he found the best show ever… _Passions. _He sat back in his chair. Spike laughed as the baby thought something witty. At the end of the hour, some strange music came on. That kind of music that signifies the end of a movie.

"We would like to thank our loyal fans for sticking with our show for all of these years."

Spike's eyes were wide and he was sitting on the edge of his seat.

"_Passions_ has been one of the best experiences of our lives and we are glad we could share it with you. Due to the cancellation of our show, tomorrow will be the series finale of _Passions._ Thank you for all of your commitment to our show and your passion for _Passions_."

Spike sat there in stunned silence. Surely, this had to be someone's idea of a sick joke. The next day he turned on _Passions_ again and watched. The show tied up several loose ends and the last ten minutes showed clips from old shows. Then, the screen went black and five words appeared on the screen, "Thank you for your passion." Spike sat in shock before allowing a solitary tear to roll down his cheek.

Spike sat up with a start. His breathing was fast. That nightmare had certainly taken a toll on him.

"Alright, this is officially not funny," he shouted at the ceiling.

Buffy being secretly in love with him was one thing… cancelling _Passions_ was not a joke. He began to search for his jacket. After finding it, he walked outside. He had to get to the bottom of this. He walked down to the Magic Box. Buffy and the rest of her minions were inside. Spike stuck his head in the door.

"You aren't sacrificing Willow are you?" he asked.

"No," Buffy responded with a puzzled look.

Spike heaved a sigh of relief and walked inside.

"What's up with you? You look like you've seen a ghost," Buffy said with a smirk.

"Haha," Spike said sardonically. "I've got some serious dream stuff going on."

"Like what?" Willow asked.

"I keep having these strange nightmares and I want them to stop," Spike announced.

"Well, silly, we can't control what we dream," Anya said with a laugh.

"These aren't bloody normal dreams. It's like someone planted them in my brain. They're like bloody custom nightmares," Spike said. He needed a cigarette.

"So why don't all of you do whatever it is you do and figure out what's going on. I need a smoke."

He stalked outside as Willow and Tara began perusing some books. He lit his cigarette and took a long drag from it.

He walked back inside the Magic Box.

"Spike, I'm glad that you are back from smoking, I've got something to tell you and no I am not joking," Buffy sang as soon as spike returned. "I think I love yooooou and I hope you love me toooooo."

"Oh, not again I cannot take this torture," Spike sang before heaving a sigh. "Of course I love you, but… nothing rhymes with torture."

"Oh, I hope we will be together forever," Buffy sang.

"I hear wedding bells a ringing but I'd like to stop this singing," Spike returned.

"I think that this is only lust and so I'll turn Spike into dust," Xander sang before lunging at Spike clutching a stake.

Spike's eyes jerked open and he looked around. Buffy, Willow, and Xander were standing over him.

"We aren't singing are we?" Spike asked.

"No," Buffy replied.

Spike suddenly noticed the pounding in his skull. "What happened?" he asked.

"Well, you were outside smoking and then we looked out here and you were lying on the pavement. So, we drug you in here," Xander said.

Spike sat up slowly and reached to touch the back of his head.

"Oh, and we think you hit your head," Willow said.

Spike pulled his hand back and noticed that it was covered in blood.

"I'll, uh, get you some ice," Tara said. She walked away but quickly returned. "Her you go," she said handing him the ice pack.

Spike placed it on the back of his head.

"Well, do you know what's going on yet?" Spike asked.

"Do you have narcolepsy?" Xander asked.

"No," Spike replied rather scathingly. "This is a recent development not a lifelong problem."

"Has anyone put a spell on you?" Willow asked.

"Not that I know of."

"Have you been attacked by a demon?" Buffy asked.

"NO," Spike replied more harshly than he had intended. "Look, if any of that had happened, don't you think I would have told you about it. This is bloody useless. I'm going back home."

Spike walked back outside and proceeded to his crypt. He paced up and down.

"What's wrong with me?" he uttered. "Having bloody crazy dreams. Falling asleep for no reason."

He sat down and turned the TV on, determined not to go to sleep. It was no use. He felt himself drifting off, so he jumped up and stalked outside.

"Spike," he turned to see Buffy.

"Oh, hello Love. Come for a quick shag before heading out to save the world."

He walked over to her and pulled her to him. Then, he leaned in and kissed her. She tried vainly to resist but gave up quickly. They made it back inside and began to strip each other down. The made it to the bed and continued "exercising" for a while. Buffy finally pushed Spike off of her.

"I have to go," she said.

She got up and began to throw on her clothes.

"And save the world," Spike finished.

She shot him a sarcastic look. She began to walk out of the crypt.

"Goodbye Buffy," Spike said as smoke furled from his mouth and his freshly lit cigarette.

"Goodbye Spike."

Spike noticed that the stars were bright. He saw Buffy staring at him. She gave him a quick wink which he returned before clapping his hands together.

"Let's go Will. Hit it hard son," he instructed their son from third base.

Will gave him a small smile before turning to look at the pitcher. The pitcher threw the ball and Will hit it to shallow centerfield. Buffy stood up and cheered and Spike waved Chase home as he rounded second. Chase tagged home and the game was over. Spike ran out and picked Will up.

"You won the game buddy. You won it," Spike said as he tousled Will's hair.

Buffy ran over and hugged them both.

"Good game boys," she said.

She gave Will a kiss on the cheek. Then, she gave Spike a kiss too, along with a slap on the butt.

"Ewww, gross," Will said. He went over and picked up a bat. "Hey, Dad, Dad, watch this. Watch how hard I can hit it."

"I'm watching son," Spike said as he stood there with his arm around Buffy.

One of Will's friends threw him a pitch and Will hit it hard. Spike heard a crack and saw that the bat had broken. He felt a shard pierce his heart.

Spike jolted upright in his chair.

"Oh bloody hell," he said. "Now I'm coaching Little League. Can things get any worse? What an ingenious way to die, being pierced in the heart by a wooden bat."

He looked outside and noted that it was still daylight, so he lay back down and went back to sleep despite his better judgment.

When Spike woke again, it was dark. He felt thoroughly rested and, thankfully, his sleep had been dream free, or nightmare free anyway. He walked outside. He looked around the graveyard and seeing nothing set off for Buffy's house. He hadn't gone very far when something knocked him down. He turned over to see some sort of demon pinning him down. He threw it off despite its webbed fingers clinging to him.

"Having bad dreams, Spikey?" it asked in its croaky voice.

"What the hell do you know about it?"

"Did it, Spikey," it declared.

"Did what?" Spike asked.

"Made Spikey have bad dreams. Did it," the thing croaked.

"Son of a bitch," Spike spat. "Make them stop. It's not bloody funny anymore."

"Can't make them stop, Spikey. Spikey can make them stop or they will stop Spikey."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"If Spikey dies in dream, Spikey dies. Dreams end Spikey."

"How can I make them stop?" Spike asked, his voice full of urgency.

A beam of light fell over the thing and Spike recognized it instantly as a Froggoblin. More importantly, if he had correctly understood the Froggoblin, he would actually die in real life if he died in the dream.

"To stop dreams, Spikey must give up a thing he loves. A thing that curses him. The thing can never love you, Spikey. The thing haunts Spikey's dreams and makes them nightmares."

Then, with a small pop, the thing disappeared. What thing did he love? He didn't love anything… except Buffy. Buffy couldn't be cursing him. He thought back. He had seen her the day of the Dawn and Willow dreams. The _Passions_ dream, well, Buffy had been in the other dreams. She had been at The Magic Box before the musical dream and had come over for some extracurricular activities before the Little League dream. No, it couldn't be Buffy… but it was. It explained everything. He wouldn't give her up. He had woken up every time before he died. He'd just risk it. He would keep fighting for her until he took his last breath. He lit a cigarette to calm his nerves and as the smoke filled his lungs, Buffy walked up.

"How are those dreams coming? Figure out what's causing them yet."

"Yeah I," Spike started, but suddenly felt very drowsy. "I got attacked by a froggoblin," he said.

Everything suddenly turned red. The sky, the grass, the trees, it was all red.

"What's happening?" Buffy asked, looking around slightly nervously.

They remained in the cemetery, but it was different. Red.

"I don't know," Spike said.

It felt eerie. Suddenly, sunlight blazed all around them. Not just from one source, but from everywhere. Spike tried to run to his crypt, but he was too weak. Then, everything went black.

"Spike? Spike?"

Spike jerked awake. Again, drenched in sweat. Buffy was standing over him looking as ghostly pale.

"What happened to you?" she asked.

"Another one of those damn nightmares. Listen Buffy… I uh, I have to go. I'll see you later." He turned and walked back to into his crypt. He paced back and forth. This could not be happening. How could Buffy be cursing him? He sat down and put his head in his hands.

"Spike, what's going on?" Buffy had walked in. She looked concerned. "What's causing these dreams?"

"I'm not sure, but I've got a pretty good idea."

"Tell me what it is and I'll help you fight it."

"You can't love."

"Spike, I want to help you get this thing. You don't know what happens when you go out do you?"

"No, why?"

"You start, I don't know, seizing. Your eyes roll back in your head and you start convulsing. Last time, you did that and then you just stopped and I thought you were… dead." She said the last bit nervously. She looked worried. "So, I want to help you fight this. We need to kill it before it kills you."

"It's not that simple," Spike sighed.

"Yes it is. What is it? What's causing these nightmares?"

Spike paused and looked at her. He didn't know if he should tell her or not.

"Spike," Buffy demanded, "What's causing these things?"

"You," he said finally.

"What? Me?"

"This froggoblin demon thing, he told me that something I love is cursing me… and the only thing I love is you."

"I…"

"He said… he said the thing can never love me back," he said this with a pang in his chest, "Kind of fits the bill doesn't it."

"Spike, I…"

"Don't try to tell me you love me Buffy. False love is worse than no love at all, because I want to believe you love me. I want you to tell me you love me. But if you don't love me and you tell me you do and I find out it's all been a bloody charade… it will hurt me more than having to live everyday with the pain of seeing you and being with you and loving you and knowing that you will never love me back."

Buffy stood there and let Spike's words wash over her knowing there was nothing she could truthfully say to make him feel any better.

"I guess I should go then," Buffy said.

"You're welcome to stay," Spike said, "If you can deal with these bloody nightmares, or daymares as it were."

"No, Spike, I don't want to hurt you. So I'll just go." She walked towards the door, but then turned and walked back to spike. She put her hands on his chest and kissed him.

"Please don't die on me. Ok?" she whispered.

"I'll try my best," he returned.

Then, she turned and walked out of the crypt. Spike sat back down and looked around, his eyes eventually coming to rest on his pack of cigarettes.

"Well, at least you'll never leave me," he said. He reached over and picked up the pack; it was nearly full. He pulled one out and fiddled with it absentmindedly for a minute before lighting it and taking a pull. He felt drowsiness wash over him. He shook his head to no avail. He stood up and began walking around battling to stay awake. He felt himself falling and as his eyes once again fell on the cigarettes, he figured it out.

"You," he said.

Spike looked around him. There were mounds of lemon drops and chocolate and ice cream and cookies and cakes and peanut brittle all around. A chorus of dancing gummy bears trooped out and began to sing.

"Welcome to the land of candy. It's really nice, it's really dandy. It's really neat. It's filled with treats. It's filled with sweets. The land of candy can't be beat."

Spike glared at the gleeful gummies who were now singing "Doo do do da doo do do, doo do do da doo do do do" and walking around in a jaunty fashion.

'The only thing to kill me here is diabetes' Spike thought.

The gummy bears were still walking around singing their little tune. Spike walked over and examined the chocolate. He broke off a small slab and ate it.

"You shouldn't have eat that, it was poison and now you're going to," they clapped their hands and spun around, "die. Doo do do da doo do do. Doo do do da doo do do."

Spike felt his chest tighten and realized he couldn't breathe. He fell down and everything started to spin. He saw the gummy bears close ranks and lean over him. He felt his shoulders jerking. He had his hands clasped at his throat. He suddenly felt air rush into his lungs. Then, it left as suddenly as it had come. He was dying again, gasping for air that wouldn't come. Then, it did, air filled his lungs again.

"Spike," he felt his shoulders jerk again. He opened his eyes.

"Buffy," he said.

"Yes, I came back to make sure you didn't lapse again and found you like this. I'm not sure what to do. If I leave you, you might collapse again and no one will wake you up. If I stay, you'll keep having these things."

"It's not you," Spike said. He pulled himself up and got his cigarettes. "Cover your nose and mouth," he instructed Buffy.

They pulled their shirts up over their faces so that only their eyes were visible. Then, they pulled their jackets over too. Spike lay the whole pack down and set it on fire. The smoke flared and showed different visions. Buffy giving birth. Spike strapped to a table. Unicorns and fairies dancing in a field. Buffy walking down the aisle. The images sped up and eventually the some cleared to reveal the froggoblin.

"Dreams stop now Spikey," it declared.

Buffy picked up a large book and slammed it on the froggoblin. It oozed around the sides of the book.

"Thanks," Spike said, "Where did you get that book though?"

"I don't know. It was just laying there."

They looked at the title. _Dreams That Will Torture Spike_.

"Nice," Spike said, "Catchy title, might be an interesting read that might."

Buffy smiled.

"Well, since I'm not going to snuff it, care for a quick shag before you have to go out and save the rest of the world?" Spike asked with a malevolent grin.

THE END


End file.
